by Shayla Black
Most people think it’s titled “Time of Your Life” or some similar crap, but that’s just the sentiment of the song.
As I listen to the lyrics, so many things ring true immediately. It’s about turning points and forks in the road, making the best of tests in front of you and learning over time. Yes. To all of that, yes. And if the last three years has taught me anything, it’s echoed in the next line. What’s happening is unpredictable, but being with Britta and Jamie? Despite the discord and the uncertain future, I am having the time of my life being with them both. So I’ll preserve the still frames in my mind and tattoo the memories in good time. Whatever happens, this was worth all the while. Even if Britta chooses Makaio in the end, I will always have this period to look back on and remember.
Will it be enough if I wind up alone?
I listen to the song three times and imprint each word to memory. Keeley has always used music to process how she’s feeling. I’ve never really understood why. It seemed like something a high-school girl does. But I’m seeing that at times—like now—songs help me understand what’s in my head and heart when I can’t exactly put everything into words. Or when I’ve buried my emotions so deep the right song will dredge whatever I’m feeling up.
I don’t love the experience…but ultimately it’s better than suffering without really understanding why.
When I see Britta come back into the room, she still looks red-eyed. I lift the headphones from my ears and pause the music.
“Now you know what had me stirred up.” She gestures to the headphones.
“Yeah. Did you listen to more of the CD?”
“I started at the beginning.” She pauses. “Keeley made this for you? And these songs represent how you feel?”
“Yes.”
In the past, I would have danced around the truth. Telling Britta too much about what was going on with me would be too revealing. Now I’m not afraid to express the tangle of thoughts and pangs, aches and desperation. I want her to know she has power over me. She always has.
“She must know you well.” Britta sounds torn about that.
“She sees through me a lot. I’d like to be annoyed or weirded out by that. I was when we first met. But now, I admit it’s kind of nice.”
“Then I’m glad you two are friends. Keeley seems really lovely.”
I take Britta’s hands. “And that’s all we are. That’s all we ever have been. I wasn’t sure how to wrap my head around it when she first got together with my brother, but now I’m happy I’ll be calling her my sister.”
Tears well in Britta’s eyes. “Maybe we should talk about this.”
“Keeley?” When she shakes her head, I lift the CD case. “The music?”
“No.” Wisps of her golden hair come tumbling from her haphazard updo. “Us.”
Oh, thank god.
Still rubbing her hands between mine, I nod and sit on the sofa. “Let’s do that, angel. I’m here for no other reason than to convince you that I intend to make you and Jamie happy forever.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready to process that.”
“I can’t not tell you the truth.”
Britta mulls that for a moment, then nods. “I’m just at a loss. I never expected to have you in my life again, much less as something more than Jamie’s father. I have no idea what to do.”
“I know I’m not making anything easy on you. I’m sorry. If you break things off with Makaio, I’ll do my best to downshift so we can grow our relationship more slowly—”
“You can’t expect me to end my engagement before I’ve even figured out how I feel.” Her expression holds a hint of apology. She knows I want that—and more—from her and she’s sorry she can’t give it to me now.
“Then tell me how you and I can proceed, beyond what we’re doing?”
“Can you give me a little breathing room?”
“No.” I say the word softly. I can’t candy-coat the truth or change the hand I’ve been dealt. “When he moved up the timetable of your wedding, he was putting me on notice. Did you realize that?”
She shakes her head. “He said he just didn’t see the point of waiting and—”
“He also wasn’t about to give me an opportunity to woo you away. He was letting me know that he’s aware of my intentions. That date was a giant fuck you to me. I only have this small span of time to work with. So I have to use every moment of every day that I have to make you see how good being married to me would be. I’ll bet he wasn’t thrilled when you said you would be moving in with me temporarily.”
She hesitates. “No.”
“How did you get him to agree?”
“I told Makaio there was no other way to convince you to sign away your rights so he could adopt Jamie. He didn’t like it but…” She wrings her hands in her lap. “Ultimately, he made me promise him something before he would agree to let me come here.”
“What?” I have a suspicion and I don’t like it.
“That I could never see you again.”
I sit back, fists clenched, and nearly lose my temper. I take a deep breath and calm myself with two important facts: One, in Makaio’s shoes, I probably would have wedged a similar promise out of Britta. Two, I understand his game completely. Sadly for him, I’m just better at playing.
“Then let’s work things out so you don’t make a mistake and marry him.”
Britta bites her lip so hard it blushes bright red as she tries to hold back tears. “I’ve spent three years thinking I knew precisely who you were. Gorgeous, cocky, funny, possessive, sexy…and at the same time self-absorbed, aloof, quick to blame, slow to trust, even slower to commit. Last night, that engagement ring…” She shudders as she inhales to keep the tears at bay. “You made me question everything. I’ve spent our time apart believing that our relationship meant far more to me than to you, that you were never the sort of man who was going to simply love a woman for the rest of your life, that you could never care about me enough to stay and be faithful and—”
“You’re wrong. Not about being self-absorbed. Or having difficulties trusting. But the rest…”
“Why? Why couldn’t you trust me?”
I wave her away. If she can’t handle the number of women I slept with during our split, the rest of my past will blow her mind. She’ll never look at me the same. “Shitty childhood. You’ve met my parents.”
She winces. “They’re terrible people.”
“Exactly.” And hopefully that’s all I ever have to say again about that topic. I couldn’t stand it if she looked at me like some psycho-sexual monster. “But you’re wrong about the way I felt back then. Our relationship meant everything. I did want to love you forever, faithfully. I wanted to marry you and…” Fuck, now I’m getting choked up. “I didn’t know how to tell you then, and I’m trying to now.”
“I just wish you hadn’t waited until I was engaged to someone else.”
Her whisper rips at me. I wish I had a good answer other than I should have pulled my head out of my ass sooner. But I don’t. I can only try to move her forward with me.
“I didn’t coerce you to live with me until your wedding day to make your life hell. I did it to prove that we belong together. If you didn’t believe, at least a little bit, that I might be right, this situation would be easy for you. You would tell me to fuck off. You might acknowledge me as Jamie’s father and make me fight out visitation in the courts, but you wouldn’t have anything to do with me. We’re here because what you feel for me is more than the remnants of first love. There’s something else between us. Can you admit that much?”
She inches back on the sofa and crosses her arms over her chest, like she needs space between us. “If I do, you’ll only come at me harder.”
“But I’m right?”
No doubt she’ll think I’m a pushy bastard, but Britta needs comfort and I think she needs it badly. From me. I take her hand and rub my thumb over her knuckles.
She grips my hand in return as she squeeze
s her eyes shut, silently affirming everything I’ve been thinking. “Yes.”
We’re finally getting somewhere. I sit up straighter and bring her closer. I want to put her palm against my skin. Hell, I want to put my hands all over her body. I live in a constant state of arousal fantasizing about it. But she’s worth every moment of the agony.
“Thank you, angel. In order for you to figure out if you want me in your life, if what we have could work for you, we both have to be as honest as possible. I’ve been trying. I’ve been letting you in on everything I’m feeling and thinking—”
“I told Keeley today that you’re so forthcoming I almost don’t know who you are.” She sends me a teary smile. “Sometimes I feel as if I’m waiting for the old you to show up. In the past, I spent half my time wondering if I mattered to you. Or if I even crossed your mind. Now I know. It’s refreshing, on the one hand. Disarming on the other.”
“If you’ll let me, I’ll tell you every day that I’m thinking of you. That I want you. That I love you. I’ll never make you wonder again.”
“What about the rest of our problems? I mean…you just left me that morning. I didn’t even know what was going on so I could defend myself and tell you why you were misunderstanding the situation. You severed all ties before I could assure you that I knew nothing about Maxon’s deal with that secretive prince.”
I wince. “I know. But I’m getting better at trust.”
Britta shakes her head. “That’s not enough for me. We have a child now. Whatever anger you have? You have to think beyond it long enough to figure out what’s best for everyone. This can’t be about your temper and your pride anymore.”
“You’re right. Does it help if I make you a promise? If we ever seemingly reach the end of our relationship, I’ll talk to you. And you’ll talk to me. If we do that, I can’t imagine that we’ll ever call it quits again.” I edge closer to her. “Britta, I was young and cocky. Angry and stupid. Immature. You’ve met my parents. That was my example of marriage. I knew I loved you. I was afraid to say it because that would be giving you power over me.”
“But you had that power over me.”
I nod, conceding the point. “You have to understand… I’ve seen one partner punish the other with their ‘love.’ The thought of reliving that wasn’t something I could handle. But I’m telling you now because I know you’ll never abuse it. Because I’ve lived years without you, and it made me fucking miserable.”
She frowns like she doesn’t understand me at all. I’m not surprised. Her mother is a doll of a woman who loves her daughter with all her heart. She chose a man who ultimately didn’t stay with her because he went back to his ex-wife. But Eleanor knew her heartache was as much her lover’s fault as her own. She’s not resentful. Her maternal adoration shines in everything she does for Britta. My angel never saw two people tear each other up on a daily basis for the sport of it. She never gave her heart to anyone who crushed it simply for amusement.
“If you could promise you would never walk out on me again without a conversation—”
“Absolutely. Done. I will never, ever simply leave without a word. You won’t do that to me?”
Britta frowns. “Whether we’re together or not, you know that’s not my style.”
She’s right. It’s not. I’m a lucky bastard that Britta has never been the sort to try to make me jealous or angry or threaten me to get a reaction. Honest. Kind. Caring. Perfect. That’s her.
“Okay, so that’s one hurdle. I think…” She swallows. “We have to talk about all the other women.”
“When we were together, I never once cheated on you.”
“But you’ve hardly been a monk the last three years.”
I want to protest. She can’t hold against me what I did when we were apart. But she can’t help how she feels about everything I’ve done since we separated any more than I can help how I feel about her crappy fiancé.
“If you’ll say yes to me…” I dare to curl my fingers around her nape and make damn sure she’s looking into my eyes. “If you’ll marry me, I guarantee you’ll be the last woman I ever touch. And I’ll never give you a reason to want anyone else.”
Much less someone like Makaio Kāle.
“I’m not ready to commit to that.”
I try not to gnash my teeth. It’s like we’re having a circular argument. I don’t know how to move her forward. I can’t go back.
“Angel…”
“But your point about our time together makes sense. At the end, we should be certain of our decision to either get back together or split up for good. What if…” She sighs, collecting her thoughts. “What if you had the right idea earlier? Instead of one night of trying to imagine what life would be like if we’d been married all this time, what if we live that way the rest of our time here together? Minus the sex, of course.”
Of course. That part doesn’t thrill me, but the rest? I want to throw a fucking party. “Hell yes!”
That’s a far better concession than I ever expected her to give me. It’s such a relief to know I won’t have to fight her for every conversation we share for roughly the next seven weeks.
The smile she gives me is halting at first, but it grows, reaches her eyes. It makes her come alive. It makes her look happy.
This is what I’ve been waiting for, fighting for, aching for.
Britta Stone is almost mine again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It’s no surprise that Britta isn’t ready to break up with the butthole yet, so I have to keep working around him. No, it’s not my first choice, but she’s given a lot tonight. I don’t know what magic words I used to persuade her to try the next forty-eight days my way, but I’ll say it again and again if it will keep moving us forward.
I’d rather kiss her, make love to her, cement our bond right now. But until she ditches the most uptight Hawaiian I’ve ever met, I have to respect her boundaries.
We wander to the family room. I mention ice cream. She dishes us both a couple of scoops into a cup. And we smile. Talk turns to “Keeley’s” wedding, and I press for details. My angel loves a good plan and she gets really excited.
“Do you think Keeley would be offended if I offered to take some of her tasks off her list?”
Because presumably she may never get to plan a wedding of her own. But this is genius because if she marries me, she will have unwittingly crafted at least a chunk of her own nuptials, which should thrill her to bits.
“I think she’d be both happy and relieved. You should do it.”
She slides the gleaming spoon against her tongue, and I nearly lose it. Her lips are glistening and rosy, pillowy and sensual—and inches from mine.
I have to look away before I toss her across the counter, pull off her yoga pants, and do something she’ll slap me for now or resent me for later.
“I will. Thanks.” She glances at the clock. “It’s still fairly early. If we’d been married for the last three years, maybe we would find a movie to watch to pass the rest of the evening?”
After the deep discussion we just had, I would insist on taking her to bed and making sure she feels loved, wanted, and secure. But…
I sigh. “Sure.”
We climb on the sofa, maybe two feet apart, and turn on a numbing police comedy. There are a couple of suspenseful parts and a high-speed chase, complete with automotive acrobatics that strain credulity. When the cop’s love interest is nearly killed for information, Britta edges closer and buries her head in my shoulder.
I smile. She’s got a soft heart. She’s never liked violence. And I’m not above using this moment to my advantage.
Wrapping my arm around her, I anchor my palm on her hip and slide her closer. “You okay?”
She’s still tense. “Can I look now?”
I stare at the screen. One bad guy has cuffed this girl to a surgical table and another just picked up a cordless screwdriver. “Not yet.”
“Why do they put this in movies? Can’t they
fade to black and tell me bad stuff might happen, then show me the outcome later?”
I laugh. “Guys like the aggressive, testosterone-driven scenes. Juices up the blood. Makes us feel manly. We imagine how
